Truths After Battle
by MyShipIsWeird
Summary: Summary: What happens immediately following the battle. DG/Cain, not romantic. Rating of T for use of battle aftermath descriptions just to be safe .


Summary: What happens immediately following the battle. DG/Cain, not romantic. Rating of T for use of battle aftermath descriptions (just to be safe).

Disclaimer: Not mine. (like anyone would think they were) But I might try stealing that hat... *grin*

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The first week following the Eclipse had been hectic. The reemergence of the two suns was a clear sign to all both the Resistance and the Longcoats. The rein of the Sorceress had ended; the battle was over. A cheer rose up as the light exploded across the land, like waking to a second dawn. Even years later, some still swore that the light seemed even brighter and stronger than it ever had been before.

Then the cheers faded, the first blush of joy giving way to sadness. Young men learned that day, the most ancient truth of battle: no victory is ever fully sweet. The dead lay in the warming light under the gaze of carrion birds and the touch of flies. Daydreams and fairy tale endings die quickly under the task of healing the wounded and burying the dead.

It had been DG's idea and the Queen nodded her assent. The Longcoats would be housed in the Tower prison until more suitable arrangements could be made. "Just because we won, doesn't mean we will use their methods of punishment. We're better than that!" Thus, none of the Sorceress's troops were denied basic food, healing, or proper burials.

"Glitch," DG said. "Do you think you can design a better locking system? I don't want any Longcoats throwing their food onto the levers." She was, of course, referring to her own attempted method of escaping that same prison. Yes, the arrival of Toto in Terrier form had turned her attempt into a success, it still proved there were obvious holes in the prison's security.

Glitch tilted his head to the side slightly, his eyes lighting in a small twinkle. "I may have already invented it, Doll. I'll talk to Ambrose to see what we can work out."

DG smiled as Glitch strode off, headed towards Raw. She noted that ever since Raw had joined him to his half brain - even temporarily - his glitching had calmed down somewhat. He still carried that bit of sunny cheer she's always seen, but now it was smoother, more confident.

Then she sighed and slipped down through the passages and stairwells of the tower to the ground level where the signs of the battle were at their worst. She anticipated the sight and smell with her stomach already clenching, and paused for a moment before stepping outside.

"Hold on!"

She turned to see Jeb Cain behind her, reaching towards her with an oily-looking cloth in his hand.

"Tie this over your mouth and nose. It's not going to be perfect, but the ointment will help keep some of the stench out." Jeb motioned to the others right outside who wore similar cloths.

She thanked him and gratefully tied the cloth around her face as instructed.

"Stay on the east side," Jeb whispered.

DG lowered her voice to match his, "Why?"

"Father's working the West side. He told me you're brave enough to tackle anything. But I don't think he'd want to see you out here. I definitely know he doesn't want me out here either."

DG was thankful that the cloth hid her blush. Cain had praised her to his son? "So are you going to listen to him?"

Jeb simply produced another ointment-covered cloth and tied it around his head. Together they walked into the sunlight, braced against what sights and smells awaited them.

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It was deep into twilight when Wyatt Cain found DG and his son working side by side, digging a grave by torchlight. His lips hardened into a thin line as he watched them working. Both sported dusty streaks along the exposed skin on their cheeks, but it was impossible to tell if it had been from tears or sweat... perhaps both.

Jeb saw him first and stiffened, drawing DG's attention. She followed Jeb's gaze and whispered, "Mr. Cain!"

He blinked away the dust that was still floating in the air. Yes, it must be the dust... No, he was done lying about his heart. It squeezed painfully seeing the two people he'd sworn to protect, digging graves for dead soldiers, facing the truth about war. Yes he know both had every right to be there with the rest of the forces, but it didn't mean he had to like it.

He did not attempt to speak, merely jerked his chin towards a third shovel lying just past DG. She nodded and handed him her own, and bent to retrieve the other. They made no other sounds other than metal scraping the ground and their breath, and the grave deepened.

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It was two days before the battle field had been cleaned. There had been a small suggestion of a celebration, but by then no one really had the energy or enthusiasm for it. Instead, the Queen declared there would be a small ceremony followed immediately by a day of rest.

The ceremony as it were, consisted of a royal speech to a small crowd, praising DG, her companions, and the Resistance forces. The Queen's voice trembled with emotion as she thanked them for her deepest joy, having both of her daughters back, one from the other side, and one from the clutches of the witch.

The eyes brightest with tears belonged to Azkadelia. She had whispered to DG, earlier that morning, of her fears. Fears that the people would not believe her to be freed, that the witch's touch would forever taint her. But at the wild cheer that broke out after the Queen's speech, calls of both DG's and Az's names alike, she realized this home, the people, would not abandon her.

No one was surprised when both daughters slipped away soon afterwards to a quiet corner to sit and be at rest. Az carried with her a small text on magic. She explained to DG, "It's the Second Light of Magic. Tutor recommended it for me as a guide, to re-learn the paths of the light."

She nodded at small book DG carried. "A new sketchbook?" When DG nodded she continued, "What have you been working on?"

DG opened the book to the first page. "I haven't finished some of the shading yet," she explained, but handed it to her sister.

Az examined the paper. Three men stood facing the sunlight, their faces angled slightly up: Popsicle and Ahamo were on the left and right and Wyatt Cain stood in the center. The detail she had included spoke of hours of work: the curls in Popsicle's grey hair, the "spitfire-smile" on Ahamo's face, and the glint on Cain's badge.

Hours of work. Az raised an eyebrow and DG understood without words.

"It's been hard to sleep with the..." She shrugged. "I'll probably sleep a little tonight now that it's over."

Said Az, "I think we'll all sleep better tonight. Does this have a title?"

DG blushed slightly. "Yes, but... Well, I haven't told it to anyone else yet...My three fathers."

"Three? I understand Popsicle and...." Az's voice trailed off.

DG did not answer her right away, breathing slowly as she considered her answer. At times it was so clear she wondered that everyone didn't see it, felt it as strongly as if it was a song coming right from the center of her chest. But feeling it and saying it were two different things. So she took her time in the explanation.

"If," she started and paused with another breath. "Cain more than anyone. Popsicle was there for me when I was growing up on the other side. But he wasn't loyal. He had a deeper purpose than being my father, and then... he was reprogrammed.

"and Ahamo. He's always been loyal to me - to both of us - ever since we were born. But he's never been there, always waiting from afar."

Az asked, almost knowing what the answer would be. "But Cain?"

DG smiled. "Cain was both, even when he didn't want to be. He stayed with me, stayed loyal, even when it meant giving up on hunting Zero. Not even a runner bite and two bullets swayed him."

She gestured to the drawing still in Az's hands. "Ahamo and Pop... they're fathers I've been given. Mr. Cain is one I've chosen."

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Neither DG nor Az saw that in the corner of the room behind them, a shadow moved and detached itself from the wall. Ice blue eyes beneath a low fedora blinked hard. A hand raised up to carefully brush at them in the silence.

And a small whisper came from the man. It was too small to carry, but it didn't have to.

"I love you too... daughter."

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Author's final note. I know, it's not a DG/Cain romance. I like those too, but ... Well I remember reading an interview where Neal McDonough said he'd really felt it was like a father/daughter relationship. So I decided to try them out in one. :)


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